Fortunately, I’ve not had “one of those days” lately, but when we do, or at least when I do, it seems all I want is some good ole’ comfort food to make all the worries go away. Here’s the story of one of the worst days of my life – keep in mind I was only 17, so at that point I’d not had a “true” bad day yet.
A Very Bad Day
As a senior in high school, I pretty much had it made. Though we weren’t rich by any means – indeed, there were times when we wondered where the next meal would come from – my Mom did everything in her power to make sure my sisters and I got to do what we wanted in school, (as long as what we wanted to do was constructive of course).
All three of us were in the school band; my youngest sister played the drums, my middle sister played clarinet, and I, (not being able to make any sort of melodious sound emanate from any instrument), was captain of the auxiliary corp (flag and rifle team).
I have always been blessed with the gift of a great thirst for knowledge; therefore, my grades were good enough that I had earned all but one of the required credits to graduate by the time I began my senior year. This meant I was required to pass only one more math class, (though I loved school, math was the bane of my existence – I’m a word person, not a numbers person), which left me five classes to do with as I pleased. Of course one of those electives was band class; I used the others for enhancing my acting skills, (with drama class), and helping the junior English/Lit teacher grade papers. Since there was still half a day of school hours left, I used those to help Mom at home as I could, while studying to pass that horrendous math class, and creating routines for the flag team.
One afternoon I had a couple of hours to kill before leaving to pick up my sisters from school, so I wasted that time by watching MTV, (this was when there was actually music on music television). Mom called me from work. It was almost time for her lunch hour. She wanted me to come pick her up, help her get groceries, and bring them back home, (we shared a car). She told me to hurry since she only had an hour.
I jumped in the car and backed out of the driveway quickly, and immediately heard, and felt, a thump-du-thump. I glanced in the rear view mirror in time to see Garfield, our fat, orange cat, hobble-running away into the woods.
I got out of the car and ran to see if she was okay. Before I even took three steps I was flat on my back, looking into the angry mouth of Rambo, our German Shepherd. He was a friendly dog, but always had been protective of Garfield.
After wrestling with Rambo for several seconds I realized I was going to have to be calm in order to get him off me, so I settled down. I reached up and patted his neck, gently asking him to please get off me. Finally he took one paw off one shoulder. I gradually sat up and coaxed him the rest of the way, rising to my feet and tip-toeing to the woods to look for Garfield. I searched for a few minutes, but couldn’t find her.
As if coming out of a dream, I remembered what I was supposed to be doing. I prayed to Garfield for forgiveness, and got back in the car. By now it was getting late, and I knew I had to hurry. I sped down the road just as the rain started- the first rain we’d had in weeks. As I rounded the first curve the car slid sideways, and was headed straight for the sheer drop off the other side of the road.
Everything I learned about driving not even two years earlier came streaking through my head like a slow-motion movie. I took my feet off the pedals and steered the car as far to the right as I could. I ended up in the ditch, but at least I didn’t go over the bank.
After catching my breath, I got out of the car and started walking. There was a house not far away, but I didn’t know the occupants. I knocked on the door and told the elderly lady who answered about my predicament, and asked if I could use her phone.
With my luck-of-the-day, she didn’t believe me, and wasn’t about to trust me enough to allow me into her home. I had to lead her to my car to show her that yes, I had wrecked, I was alone, and I was not about to rob her. Finally she allowed me inside and I called Mom. Needless to say, she wasn’t very happy.
~~~~~~~~~~
We found Garfield dead. We got the car out of the ditch, and had the tires aligned, the first of many alignments I would experience in my young adult years. In the space of a few hours I had killed our cat, gotten attacked by our dog, wrecked my car, and scared an old woman to death. The only fortunate thing about the whole day was the minimal damage to the vehicle. I learned my lesson – if you want to get anything done right, you’ve got to slow down.
~~~~~~~~~~
Here’s a good comfort dish to make all the worries go away. You must take your time with this one, and slow down to enjoy it.
Chicken-n-dumplings
- Whole chicken, cleaned and ready to cook
- 1 Tbs. oregano
- 1 tsp. thyme
- 1 tsp. basil
- 1 tsp. rosemary
- 1 ½ tsp. salt
- 1 ½ tsp. fresh ground pepper
- 2 cups Bisquick
- 1 cup milk
- 2 cans cream-of-chicken soup
- chicken broth (enough to cover chicken – apx 28 oz)
Place chicken in large soup pot. Sprinkle spices in. Add cream-of-chicken soup, and enough chicken broth to cover. Cook, covered, over medium heat, about 2 hours.
When chicken is falling off the bone with the poke of a fork, transfer it from pot to glass baking dish, leaving liquid in pot; keep chicken warm in low-heated oven. [To keep chicken from over-cooking, don’t set oven temperature over 200°.] *Note: as you’re transferring chicken to baking dish, remove and discard all bones and fat possible.
Meanwhile, make the dough for your dumplings, about the same way you make biscuits, just mixing Bisquick and milk in a large mixing bowl until you have a “biscuit dough” consistency. Drop the dough by tablespoonfuls into chicken soup mixture. Cook dumplings on medium heat until done, (fluffy as clouds), about 20 – 30 minutes. Put chicken back in pot with dumplings, and keep on low heat until ready to eat.